wish it!" she gasped out. "Because two things are
wanting, two little trifling things only,--trust and esteem! I will not
speak of love--you have not been true to me, Frank, you have deceived
me and lost my confidence. Let me go, I entreat you, for the love of
Heaven--let me go!"

As he made no reply, she went on rapidly, her words almost stumbling
over each other so fast they came. "I know that I have no right in law;
people would laugh at a woman who demanded her freedom on no better
grounds than that she had been lied to once. So I come as a suppliant;
be so very good as to let me go, I cannot bear to live with you in
mistrust and--and--"

"Come, Gertrude," he said, gently, "you are ill. Come into the house
now and let us talk it over in our room--come!"

"Ill--yes! I wish I might die," she murmured.

Then she suddenly grew calm and went back into the house with him. He
opened the door of his room and she went in, but she passed quickly
through into her own, threw herself on her lounge, drew the soft
coverlid over her and closed her eyes. Frank stood helpless before her.

"I will have a cup of tea made for you," said the young man, kindly.

She looked unspeakably wretched, as she lay there, the long black
lashes resting like dark shadows on her white cheeks. She must have
suffered frightfully.

"Go to bed, Gertrude," he begged anxiously, "it will be better for you
and tomorrow we will talk about this."

"I shall stay here," she replied decisively, turning her head away.

Then he lost patience.

"Confound your silly obstinacy!" he cried angrily. "Do you think I am a
foolish boy? I will show you how naughty children ought to be treated!"

Then he turned and banging the door after him he went away.

CHAPTER XV.

The first rays of the morning sun were resting like reddish gold on the
tips of the forest trees which crowded close up to the white villa-like
house. Magnificent oaks, like giant sentinels, stood on the lawn before
the massive wall. A narrow, little-used path wound in between them,
such as are to be found in places not intended to be walked upon. The
great trees gave out little shade as yet, the oak-tree is late in
getting its leaves; those that had already appeared looked young and
shrivelled against the knotted branches, and formed a delightful
contrast to the dark green of the evergreens on the other side of the
garden wall, mingled with the tender misty f